Yesterday Uno lost another tooth. It was a relief to have the thing out, finally, because she’d been wandering around for two days with the it sticking out horizontally from her mouth like a Shitzu suffering from a round kick to the kisser.
Thanks to a painful MOPS meeting where we were forced to do a craft, I now have a lovely tooth fairy pillow. It’s printed with horses and sports a large white felt tooth.
I like MOPS a lot, mostly because it’s a place where you never have to suck in your gut, but the weekly crafts completely freak me out. The tooth fairy pillow was good, however. Now, the other time I had to create a boo-boo bunny using freezable plastic ice cubes and a washcloth… still cringe every time I remember that meeting.
But enough about me. This is the story of my oldest child, her snaggle tooth, and the failure of the Tooth Fairy.
Just before bed last night Uno looked at me and said, “I’m starting to think the Tooth Fairy isn’t real. Is it really just you and daddy pretending to be the tooth fairy?”
And I said, “Uh. Well. Hm. Why would you believe that?”
“Just tell me, Mommy. I just want to know.”
“Well, I just don’t want to tell you. Go to bed.”
We handle awkward conversations in a really classy way around here.
So, Uno went to bed and Lizard and I waited awhile so she’d get good and solidly asleep.
At some point in the evening, after blogging and Lizard watching a soccer game, I mentioned we couldn’t forget the great tooth switcheroo. He agreed.
Then I fell asleep on the sofa and began to dream of sugar plums, artichokes, and years of uninterrupted sleep patterns. Eventually I woke up, brushed my teeth, and staggered into bed with my eyes cracked only enough to make sure I didn’t accidentally grind a puddle into the floor with a misstep, or hobble myself by trodding upon a miscellaneous child-like item hiding in a scary place. (Like under the rug, or barely peeking out from underneath the sofa, or hiding behind the bedroom door.)
There was a half-second interval as I was rolling into bed when I might have saved the fairy image, but it slipped clear out of my head when, as I was pulling the covers around my neck, I looked over into the shadows off the bedside and saw a disembodied head.
Yes, I did gasp and give a little shriek before I recognized the vision as my dear Dos, sleepwalking and needing a nudge back into her own bed. I tell you what, that kid could be a Native American tracker. She’s seriously stealthy.
This morning I woke up to the big, wide, hurt eyes of Uno.
“Mommy! The Tooth Fairy didn’t come!”
Uh. Well. Hm.
“Really??? I can’t believe that! We’ll just have to try again tonight and see what happens!” Oh, please. Do not let there be a fire bolt from the heavens as justice.
I posted the fail on Facebook and got a lot of suggestions from my friends! Some volunteered the Tooth Fairy isn’t only nocturnal in their home, that it might show up randomly throughout the day. Another told me the Tooth Fairy is unpredictable during Daylight Savings Time (and, really, who isn’t?). One reminded me it had been a Sunday and banks aren’t open on Sundays to get the special coins needed by a Tooth Fairy to distribute.
Tonight, before bed, she talked Lizard into helping her write a note to the Tooth Fairy:
“Dear Tooth Fairy,
I know you couldn’t come last night so I’ll try again tonight.”
You’ll notice, she wasn’t particularly forgiving in the tone of her note.
Here’s what the Tooth Fairy wrote back:
“I’m very sorry I could not get your tooth last night. I was getting another tooth when I got caught in very high winds and couldn’t fly to you. Thank you for your patience. You have beautiful teeth! Love, The Tooth Fairy”
Now, if only this unreliable Tooth Fairy can remember to exchange the tooth for a note.
Have you ever blown it with a childhood dream?